I had taken the day off, I was open.
Renter: How about Indian, Korean?
No, I'm a little partial to bar food, beers, sports on TVs.
We went to a bar with a happy hour special, then followed a friend to a bar by his house. But then, I let the devils in. I was a little hungry, and the Renter took me to a place that I didn't want to go to, no TVs, no bar.
Sitting at a restaurant without a beer and guys to talk to scares me.
The recent increase at the pump hasn't hurt me too much. I only drive 36 miles a week and even at 16 mpg I don't use that much. I should be griping about my home heating oil that went from $300 five years ago to $550 this year, but I took that hit without thinking about it too much. I did go online to compare the rates of different providers but they were all about the same price that I paid.
Today I went to buy oil for the Jeep. I've always bought Valvoline. It used to be $2.50 a quart. Last fall it was $4 and I ended up getting the O'Reilly brand because that was much, much cheaper. Now Valvoline is $6 and the O'Reilly oil is $3.50. Six quarts and a filter ended up costing me $25. You used to be able to take your car in for an oil change for less than $20 and not have to crawl underneath your car.
I've always changed the oil in my cars myself and will continue to do so. Again, since I don't put that many miles on, I think the cheap oil should be fine.
The guy at O'Reilly looked at me like I was crazy when I told him I only put on 2,000 miles a year and change my oil twice a year but if $25 keeps my car going strong I'll stick with it.
Old, old lady: My husband said I have to give this to you.
She handed me a neatly folded piece of newspaper. It was an article about the Packer's AJ Hawk and his little dog.
Old, old lady: He said you and your dog look just as comical as AJ and his dog!
Thank God it was 8:00 am and my brain wasn't functioning yet or I would have asked what exactly she meant by that.
Me: So, what happened to the TV?
Renter: You don't remember?
Me: Um...
I had started working on the Jeep at 10:00. I have two sets of tires for it, spiffy chrome rims for the summer, stock ones for the winter. I had just finished with the last one when a freind showed up at 11:00. That's when the first beer was opened.
Renter: You almost knocked over the TV on you're way to bed. You hit it and thanked God you didn't knock it over.
I fairly recall that. I wouldn't doubt the Renter's recollection.
All I remember was that it was a good long Sunday.
There might be a puppy hidden in that photo.
The Renter and I have a new coffee maker, programable. When we set it it makes coffee at 7:15 in the morning. Good shit.
Making a left hand turn, on a busy street, I say:
Me: Don't touch your co...
As I have to shift into second gear. Needless to say someone's fingers got pinched. I tried to give warning, but...
Today leaving work it had to be 60 degrees outside. I was thinking I could lift weights and sit outside till at least 7:00. But mother nature wasn't having it and after grilling some ribeyes for dinner the temperature dropped, too cold for Pupy and I to sit outside with a shivering fur ball on my lap. But that wasn't going to stop my friend.
Our five minute conversation:
Friend: Are you going to watch the Brewer's outside and have a fire?
Me: No, it's too cold.
Friend: But I have a box of wood for thefire pit!
Me: No, it's too cold.
Five minutes of that. The guy wouldn't take no for an answer. Can't wait till it gets warm outside.
Me: I need a BJ first.
Really don't want to know his answer to my request in jest.
Wish I had Tivo, be able to go back and get the fat bitch's number. Would have told her to lay off my man.
Thursday was different from the norm. Being 6'5", my head tends to hover near the headliner in any car. I noticed things that looked like bats swooping down at me.
Nope, just the Renter's sunglasses hitched on the ceiling.
I felt like shit all day. Since I took Friday off there were things I had to get done so I went about my work, making sure to double check every calculation. After my 3:00 poop I looked in the mirror and I looked like shit. 5:00 couldn't come soon enough.
When I got home I assessed the damage. 22 beers were unaccounted for. I had no idea I had 22 beers, on a school night nonetheless. I have to start keeping track of the beers this summer, hopefully making a 30 pack last two whole nights.
Speaking of which, it seems like every 12 months I put too much weight on the bench and tweak something in my upper back, right where the edge of the bench would be right below the weight. I only had 225 on the bar last week but I'd wince in pain right now if I tried to cradle a phone between my head and shoulder. So I'm sticking to 70 lb dumbells and pushups for the time being. Like I said, I've dealt with this before and it takes a month to clear up.
Sign of getting old?
(turned 34 last month)
I have a thing with people in confined areas. Not even confined areas, just people in general. The general public. I don't know if it's me or them. Normal people buying groceries, going about their daily lives. Me waiting behind them at the checkout, with (just) six 30 packs of beer, I can't deal with it. I don't know if it's because I'm such a degenerate that I need to purchase six 30 packs at once or that these people feel the need to stall my simple purchase (simi arrogant B talking there). I just can't stand waiting in line at the checout. I'd buy more than six 30 packs at a time if I could fit them in my car, trust me.
The Renter thinks I'm an asshole, that I can't wait for other people. Part of her opinion might be true. I am an asshole. I didn't say anything to the little girl who bumped in to me at the bank because she was wandering around with her coat over her head, but I wanted to. "What the fuck?" "Can you watch your kid?" But I needed $300 out of my account, didn't want to piss off the bank tellers.
Last weekend I was at the store, strolling at a snail's pace behind this old lady. By the time I got to the cashier I was a sweaty mess. My fingers hurt from squeezing the life out of the shopping cart.
"Thanks for waiting."
The cashier was making small talk, or so I thought.
"No, no problem." I lied.
"I saw the look on your face. Really, thanks for waiting."
Was it that obvious?
So now I'm left at a quandry. Do I go back to the store with the cheapest prices and have to wait in line? Or I could hit a local liquor store, with no wait, but without shopping carts, make three trips in and out the door to get my weekly fix?
The Renter knows how I am. She's at Sam's Club calling me with things she thinks I might like, deals on bulk items, because she knows I can't spend more than 15 minutes in a store without having an anxiety attack. Surprisingly she's ok with this, not cool with it but she understands.
That said, I'd pay big bucks to have beer delivered to my house every Saturday. And chicken breasts and frozen pizza.
Beer delivery.
Renter, burping: "Excuse me."
Me: " What? I burp and fart all the fucking time. I don't say "excuse me." I'd be saying that every ten minutes if I was of that nature. Mr. Efficiency, I'm not wasting my breath. Not worth it. If you shit on my couch you better say 'excuse me' and get the fuck out of my house for three hours because I will kill you, but a belch?"
Renter: "But what if we need to order this for the meeting next week?"
Do I look like I'm at work? If there's a beer in my hand I'm not at work. Save it for tomorrow.
And then there's my brilliant idea.
"If I rubbed Doritoes cheese on my cock would my penis be suckable?"
Not knowing what Doritoes cheese would feel like, and with the Renter offering the 3/4 empty bag of chips to dip my penis in, I respectably declined. I mean, I've had WD40 on my cock before and that shit burned. Spicy Sweet Chili Doritoes, I don't think that would end well, even if I had lips wraped around my penis.
The average Thursday night at my house.
Somehow the Renter and I ended up working at the same job. I might have helped a bit in getting her hired but she's perfect for the job. My company wouldn't be what it is without her. In a good way, of course.
Since we work/live together we car pool to work every day. I drive three days a week with the understanding that she will drive on the weekends if we go somewhere. Being Mr. Efficient I purchased my house six miles from downtown Milwaukee and six miles from Brookfield Square (good luck finding me, stalkers). Even for those not mathmatically inclined that's 36 miles I drive a week, even less for the Renter assuming we don't do anything on the weekends.
I have a 2002 Jeep Wrangler with 35,000 miles.
This weeked the Renter got a bug up her ass that she needed new tires. Back up a year, I used to goat her that she needed to save money for new tires, when the time came. I just wanted her to save money period and I know how much she likes her car so perfect, right?
Today she wanted tires. Actually got a good deal from Sears, $550 for four. I went outside and checked out her car. Still had a quarter of an inch of tread on them. Since we drive so little that quarter inch could last aother year. I could just see the service guys (who most certainly have bigger penises than I) laughing as we trade in perfectly good tires for new ones. Not wanting to be taken advantae of I round-aboutly got her to not get new tires (sit in her room for four hours) and not spend the $550 (because saving $550 is so bad).
And that has been my Saturday so far, sitting with puppy watching basketball, no human contact unless you count the FA texting me from the Bucks/Bulls game. Who watches pro ball in March?
